


making darkness in the day

by basketofnovas (slashmarks)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: (the marriage and sex are for magical purposes), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Consensual Kink, Cunnilingus, F/M, Fear Play, Porn With Plot, Sex Magic, The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, Undressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 23:16:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19733668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slashmarks/pseuds/basketofnovas
Summary: Narcissa enters a marriage meant to save her from the Dark Lord and a house she may not leave again for the rest of the war. Written for Season of Kink 2019, "Confined/caged."





	making darkness in the day

**Author's Note:**

> The AU here is a somewhat thin excuse for the kink and the sex, I'm afraid. 
> 
> Warnings: References to child marriage in the abstract and spousal abuse in the abstract and the specific; marriage and sex under less than free circumstances but with other options available.
> 
> Title from "Fumbling Towards Ecstacy" by Sarah McLachlan: "Companion to our demons/They will dance, and we will play/With chairs, candles, and cloth/Making darkness in the day."

Narcissa crossed the threshold of Grimmauld Place, the train of her wedding dress in hand to stop it dragging in the dirty street behind her. She knew it was the last time that she would step outside the house for possibly quite a long time.

Draco was safe at Hogwarts; she could tell herself that for what comfort it gave her. Lucius was beyond her help; and she herself... 

Well. The Dark Lord had believed her dead until today. Bellatrix had staged a duel with her over her son's defection, and once she reached him Sirius had used the house's wards to suppress her magic to keep the mark from telling otherwise. They were in the midst of a plan to ensure that the Dark Lord couldn't _use_ the trap he'd added to her mark with Draco's assignment.

She wondered when and if she would see her sister again. Bella's absence at Narcissa's second wedding had been painful. Narcissa wasn't sure she'd ever defied the Dark Lord before this. Unfortunately she also wasn't sure Bella would forgive her turning to a cousin in the Order of the Phoenix instead of leaving the country as planned.

"Are you alright?" Sirius asked behind her. She heard the door close and for the first time it felt ominous.

"Entirely." The house sounded empty. She remembered then that, married to the owner - and Narcissa Black once more - she could actually check. The wards told her it was indeed empty, even of Kreacher. Good, he'd cleared the Order out, at least for the night. "

"Would you be so kind as to bring up a bottle from the kitchen? Something stronger than wine, I think." She certainly wasn't going down to the basement like this with no attendant for the train; the stairs up would be enough of a challenge.

When she turned to catch the banister, she caught a glimpse of Sirius's pale face. He swallowed. "Cissy, we don't have to..."

"Don't be absurd," she said flatly. "For one, the spellwork needs to be consummated or it won't last." Grimmauld Place would hide her and Draco, but for security - and more to the point, to give Sirius the control to suppress her magic, or enchantments laid upon it - the archaic and moderately illegal marriage spellwork was required; and _that_ was meant to require sexual intercourse.

There had been other options, other plans. This was the safest and the one that offered her security beyond the Order's charity to a defector. She and Sirius had chosen this together.

Her own footfalls echoed harshly on the stairs. She'd rather turn to Sirius than Dumbledore, she reminded herself again.

Narcissa's childhood bedroom had been cleaned out and rearranged, earlier. Sitting at the vanity she felt both better and more like herself: her old self, Narcissa Black indeed. She had dressed here for both weddings. 

That thought was a mistake. She could almost see Bella's face over her shoulder in the familiar mirror, frowning as she tried to make Cissy's fine, slippery hair stay up. The urge to cry crashed over her like a wave. It was only Bella she could ever cry for, Bella and Draco and--

Her mind shied away before the third name out of habit, but that was pointless now. Andromeda, she finished, Andromeda who witnessed your wedding and your marriage contract not three hours ago. Narcissa hadn't let her help with the train at the ceremony or the dressing before it. At her first wedding Bellatrix had done both.

The important part wasn't the wedding. It was the husband.

Sirius knocked before he entered. He set a bottle of whiskey and two of the crystal shot glasses that had once been Grandfather Pollux's on her dresser. He hesitated, then. He was still wearing his dress robes, but his hair was down around his face, his collar opened.

"Come help me with this," she said. He was good with hair, she remembered vaguely. She recalled Bella making him help with hers as a teenager. His face in the mirror was so like Bella's: gray eyes, black hair, the same slowly fading gauntness from Azkaban. They were within a few fingers of each other's height.

"Cissy," Sirius said, terrifyingly gentle, which incidentally was how Bella spoke when she was worried: like Cissy, too, was made of fine and easily shattered crystal.

"Don't," she said. Sirius' hands froze. "Not my hair, I mean - no pity, I can't bear it. I'm not a child bride you're trying to ply with sweets so I'll stop crying for my mother." She'd been engaged at twelve the first time, though _that_ betrothal had been broken. That could have been her; it wasn't.

Sirius looked faintly nauseated by the comparison but he went back to picking pins out. The lace veil came off when he found the last. "Alright. What would be better? I know you'll be stuck inside for months like I was, so if I can make it easier... I don't want to - treat you like I've locked you up in the inner rooms to avoid suspicion about my children's paternity." There were too many men who'd actually imprisoned their wives after the weddings in their society, and their family itself.

"I'd almost rather you would," Narcissa said dryly, without thinking. Sirius' hands jumped this time. "I mean - you could at least try to enjoy it, half of the men in our world would kill to have me locked in their house and legally married to them."

"Yes, and then you'd kill them," Sirius said, unraveling with sure and steady fingers the braid over her head that had anchored the veil. "Aright, so you're telling me you feel unappreciated?"

She felt she was going to die if she wasn't distracted soon. The Dark Lord would know by now that she was alive, that she and Sirius had married - they had had to file the paperwork and spoil that brief illusion, and the reawakening of her magic for the ceremony would allow him to find her mark even if he couldn't deploy it. 

Would he kill Bella when he found out? Would he order Bella to kill _her_?

"Yes," she said, and made herself smirk at him in the mirror. She'd had no more choice about the first marriage - less, really. She knew how to make herself feel the appropriate things. And Sirius had grown up well, now that Azkaban was leaving his face. The remaining gauntness flattered him in its way. "Appreciate me, Sirius. I've nothing to do but serve you."

Sirius laughed helplessly, pressing his face into her loosened hair, making her stiffen. "That's not you, Cissy," he said with careless sincerity.

"You've no idea what I'm like," she snapped, suddenly irate. She twisted around and dropped off the stool, falling to her knees gracefully. She knew the train spiraled around her on the floor, that her hair fell around her face, slightly disheveled as though she'd come from bed and not church. Narcissa could frame the image of herself effortlessly, strike a picture without seeming to try.

"I - alright, I don't know," Sirius said, uncertain. He licked his lips - anxiety, nothing else. She took his hand, kissed it, and pressed it to her cheek.

Coaxing sexual response out of Lucius had been like trying to get blood out of a bowtruckle, whether it was women or Blacks he disliked. That wedding night had been a humiliation of its own order. 

Sirius was easy in comparison. She heard his breath catch. He turned the hand in hers to stroke her cheek.

"Cissy, you know you don't have to..."

"I want to," she said, lowering her eyes. "Sirius, I really don't want a repeat of my wedding night with Lucius. Do you need to take something to make this easier?" They had aphrodisiac doses available. She knew perfectly well he didn't need one right now, but maybe the reminder would help him act.

"No," he said, and swallowed again, audibly. She sat, still and poised, imagining the picture she made - wearing light blue to set off her eyes, a pale silhouette at his feet. Only her earrings moved faintly with the trembling in her shoulders.

She heard him sigh. "Cissy, get up." A finger came across her lips when she started to argue. "You're still dressed," he said. "Sit at the vanity where I can reach you."

Genuinely weak with relief at his surrender, she rose obediently. She'd never ultimately failed to seduce a man she needed before, but she'd never been trying for her first cousin, either.

"And stop that," he said.

"That?" She raised her head to stare at him in the mirror, quizzical.

"That." One of his hands closed lightly on the fold of skirt she'd twitched back to expose her ankle; the other brushed away the lock of hair falling over her shoulder into her lap. "I know you do it on purpose, Cissy."

"...I've no idea how to stop," she said, taken aback. "You know I started around twelve."

"Well, you'll learn. They wanted you to catch a husband out of the house. I know you don't actually like being an ornament, and you've married back home." He gained confidence as he spoke. "You're shut in my house for years, now, Cissy - no need to practice chasing other men."

She swallowed. The edge of fear quickened her heartbeat in a way that her cousin's face couldn't. She _knew_ Sirius didn't mean that; Lucius would have. He had.

"If I practice anyway?" she said, and smiled at him in the mirror.

He delicately pulled one dangling earring out; caught her earlobe between finger and thumb once it was gone. "I might not let you leave when it's over, then," he said, and they both watched her reflection flush brilliantly red.

"Cissy," Sirius said when she didn't speak. "This is really how you want me to..."

"Yes," Narcissa said, voice gone breathy with nerves and arousal. She and Bella had always been more alike than they seemed on the surface. This was one way. Narcissa only refrained from exercising her taste for games - most of the time.

"Then I think you're overdressed." Sirius took her jewelry off quickly, then began the rows of minuscule, fragile hooks down her sides. He unfastened them by hand, not magic, and she didn't ask why. "As you're here anyway and there's no one else to see, maybe I'll take the rest of your clothing away, too." 

His accent had shifted. Usually he worked to be inconspicuous among the riffraff of the Order. Now, he had never sounded more like his father in his life.

She swallowed. "I might be cold."

"Is that your only objection?" One of his eyebrows lifted. He reached the end of the left row of hooks, over her thigh, and turned to the right where it began by her breast. The bodice flopped open, exposing her chest and stomach through the gap.

"Well, it's hardly hygienic -- Sirius!" He had reached across her chest to pinch her nipple. "Am I your wife or a cow you're examining at market?"

"You're my wife," Sirius said calmly, as though those words gave him no pause. "Which means I can treat you how I want, I think. Stand up, this should come off now."

She went, and the bodice was now loose enough for the dress to come off over her head. She stood bare chested in a translucent half slip and smallclothes, plus garters and stockings. Her shoes had come off before they left the reception. (Actually she thought she'd left them there on reflection.)

Sirius looked at her and smiled crookedly, one of those odd, unreadable expressions he and Bella shared. "I see why you're so in demand. But you're doing it again, you pose like most witches breathe, Cissy." Before she could decide if that was a threat he said, "I can leave you the underwear in the future, in pursuit of hygiene," and came to pull the slip from her hips.

"Tell me you wouldn't mind Phineas Nigellus seeing me naked," Narcissa said, stepping out of it and removing her smallclothes as Sirius undressed more easily. 

"Good point. I'd better keep you locked in this room on second thought. The portraits probably share the family taste, and they all gossip." He urged her back onto the stool and knelt in front of her, unfastening the first garter from her thigh. "For your protection, naturally."

"Naturally." She closed her eyes, grasping the edge of her seat. He kissed her kneecap as he exposed it, rolling down the first stocking, and she shivered. "And taking my clothing is also for my safety?"

"Of course. You might become irrational and flee the house, and anything could happen. But I'm fairly certain you would stay in a burning building rather than wander through Islington Borough naked."

"Perhaps not a _burning_ one," Narcissa said, and gasped at his thumb on the arch of her foot as he removed her stocking.

He snapped the other garter against her thigh, making her jump. "Sirius! Are you twelve?"

"Not last time I checked, and you're one to talk the way you keep answering," he said, amused. The garter went slack and came off, but rather than unrolling the second stocking, he hesitated. Then he leaned forward and buried his face between her legs, making her shudder and twitch.

"I'll fall," she whispered. She already nearly unbalanced herself when she rolled her hips up instinctively. Her voice had gone whisper-soft again.

"Try not to," Sirius said, breath tickling her clit as he spoke. She felt her shivering most in her scalp, the palms of her hands. "But it's alright if you do. There's no need to protect the pretty face, Cissy. You don't need it anymore, and no one else will see it if you bruise."

She shivered again less happily, not at all sure she was pleased by that reminder. Sirius caught her ankle lightly and stroked the joint with his thumb. It was oddly comforting. He was whimsical in bed like the rest of the time and that reminded her of Andy, instead of - then he leaned forward to lick between her labia in a long stripe, and she lost her train of thought completely

She hadn't been sure he'd much experience with women; well, there was her answer.

Narcissa rocked on the stool and grabbed for the vanity behind her for support. Something tipped off it with a crash, but what did she care? She had no one to dress for anymore, no parties, no interviews or dinners, and thank Morgana, no meetings of the inner circle.

Narcissa pressed into Sirius' mouth, groaning. She wrapped one stockinged leg and one bare around his shoulders, bracing her feet on his ribcage. Then she almost fell when her left foot slipped in the sweat on his back. Her weight twisted entirely to her right foot for a moment and Sirius grunted into her.

She jerked and grinned. "What about _your_ bruises, Sirius?"

"Take a look at the ceiling," he retorted, withdrawing just enough to be clear. "You'll be seeing it a lot for the rest of the war." The vibrations in his throat traveled up to her core, making her roll her neck and her toes. She wondered, briefly thrilled instead of terrified, if he'd really dare keep her naked and locked in her room. 

With that she went over the edge into her orgasm - and then she really did fall off the stool.


End file.
